Welcome to Hyperion Records, an independent British classical label devoted to presenting high-quality recordings of music of all styles and from all periods from the twelfth century to the twenty-first.

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Aminta: Halt your steps, nymph,
Merciless tyrant of my heart,
And if you will not hear
The grief that afflicts me
As the progeny of love
At least, unfeeling girl, consider it
As the cruel effect of your scorn.

Fillide: The lovely flame which rises to heaven—
should the wayward east wind
deny it achievement—
must change its usual path. So also,
if harshly and cruelly I drive you from my heart,
your loving thoughts should turn elsewhere.

Believe my words, Amyntas,
and leave me in peace, for by
inclination and long-accustomed habit
I hold love’s torch too much in hate.

Aminta: How can you hate that torch of love
which at every moment
is seen sparkling in your eyes?

Aminta: Perhaps one day
the god of love
may give your heart
a wound
which will be fatal;
How lovely then
To gaze upon you
languishing and grieving,
suffering the stinging wounds
of a sharp arrow.

Fillide: Vainly, vainly you attempt
to trouble my thoughts when I scorn
Cupid’s bow and laugh at his arrow.

Aminta: Ah! in pity answer me, fair and cruel nymph,
if you have ever seen
from your reflection in brook or spring
how love does not hide from your rare beauty:
and if you love, and if you know all the delights
of your delicate face, why do you not also
desire others to adore?

Fillide: Because, shepherd, I would not
have the spring and brook
swollen with water of my tears.

Fillide: He spoke in jest, in mockery,
who said that the fire
of the god of Gnidus
brings happiness:
that heart which does not suffer
in harsh chains
thus goes its way
singing in delight.

With unfettered steps let me fly from the snare
and all my days let me breathe only the air of liberty.

Aminta: These seeming tortures
which have the appearance of torments
in the breast of every lover,
Phyllis, in one lightning flash
change to pleasures and delights.
Therefore, if that is what holds you back,
come then, beloved, happily into the compass
of the sweetest of chains!

Fillide: Be silent, shepherd. Say no more!

Aminta: Why so, cruel girl?
Will you no longer hear me?

Fillide: No, for your words have too much power.

Aminta: Ah, unfeeling, inhuman girl,
If the true cause of my love
You understand from my words
Why do you not burn with an equal flame?

Aminta: Despite cruel fate,
my soul shall be constant
and faithful;
For if Phyllis is moved to love me
the vindication of its
fidelity is clear.

Fillide: You have won, Amyntas, and love’s
torment by declaring me
utterly deprived of liberty
now becomes the ruler of my spirit;
but it uses its severity
with such gentleness that the cruel
pain, when it reaches my heart,
puts on a cloak of joy and delight.

Aminta and Fillide: In attacking the coldness of a cruel, pitiless heart,
constancy is a strong shield
and so is the valour of fidelity.
Let him turn his heaven to the gods, who in the
splendour of those fair eyes
would nourish hope of one day finding compassion.